Halien, Part 6

The hope is always that at least one person will read this, and comment.


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
I dared to protest. "But, but, it's how I imagine my home, Mrs. Jackson, I'm, I'm sor--" Whack on my sore knuckles, swelling and red. But as I beheld, thirty years later, with my adult eyes the beauty before me all was fine. It was redemption and healing. I was in my first artistic creation. I walked towards those suns, basking in the warm red light, thinking how lovely an analogy they were to the identical twin hearts of Haley and I. Just then a shadow enveloped me, and with an echoing squawk and the leathery flap of wings in my ears, I found myself scooped up gently by the warm fleshy beak of a jet-sized flying reptile, and gently laid into a basket hanging below it's prodigious, purple-scaled belly, affixed to the creature's bulk by a thin string-like substance that glittered like red jewels in the twin sunlight. I cannot believe it now, but I was not afraid. I was elated, and grew even more so as we ascended into the sweet, cinnamon-apple green air. The flapping of my guide animal, and that is how I perceived the beast, was purposeful and cooling to my body. I felt loved by the thing, and knew in my deepest gut that no harm would befall me here. I'm next to Haley, and my hands are on the book. Then an incredible sight gifted my eyes. A city on the horizon getting closer. A city of in-
describable radiance. I thought of the New Jerusalem. I'd read of it in the bible, but no human words could do justice. Futuristic structures, looping geometric creations of dizzying sophistication, gravity-defying and all jewel or gold bedecked. Arabesques, geodesic domes, all the Pythagorean solids were represented, glowing with their own inherent light. More celestial music. Ineffable. Unrepeatable. And the taste of honey-nectar and cinnamon in my mouth. As I remember now, after all this time, I would give anything for a moment of return to that place. We flew over the city. My heart was in my
mouth, my ears, my eyes, my nose, my grip. On and on the dazzling cityscape passed beneath us, shape-shifting geometric-jeweled kaleidoscope that it was, and I thought to myself, Thankyou, Haley, for the gift of this. And then another thought: A family secret? Fade out. I heard my vocal chords intone, "No!" And I felt my hands on the book, and I knew I was back in the body's here and now.
"I know, Chuck. Your so welcome, and now you know what I know."
"It was like paradise, Haley. How?" My mind was reeling, drunk, sputtering spark plugs.
"I'm not sure, Chuck. I can only tell you what I think it is."
"I'm all ears, my dear Haley." She embraced me and whispered in my ear, her heated breath quickening my pulse and genitals, and prickling my nose hairs with honeysuckle.
"I think it's home, Chuck, but--" Her voice choked up. "But it's lost. Our paradise, lost."
"Do you mean literally that the vision I saw was of our home planet?"
"More like our home dimension, Chuck, and that's way we both ache, and have always ached to return. We don't really belong here, and we've always known it. I have always felt kind of--inhuman."
"Inhuman?"
"It's why I shared this with you, Chuck. I have searched for another of my species, and I never held forth much hope until I found you. We are misfits on this world. We are of the same flesh and soul, and my goddamned search has reached it's terminus!"
"Well, Haley, let's take a step back and not lose our minds here! We have human families! We have siblings and friends and lives right here on earth, and moreover--"
"No we don't, Chuck! We--You and I--are the only family we've got! Everyone else is alien!"
"No, Haley! I, I can't believe that! It's crazy!"
"Don't you dare call me crazy! Get out of here, Chuck! Get the fuck outta here! God help me!" She rose to her feet and flailed her arms. I reached out to comfort her, but she batted my hands away. Then, I saw him. Her brother, whom I'd forgotten about, leaped out of his Zazen posture, facing me with sudden ferociousness. He bared his fangs at me. Demon teeth! And his indigo eyes beamed like blinding flashlights. The rest is fuzzy. Suffice it to say, I ran not just for my life, but for my soul. Somehow I made it home, panting, collapsing on my bed, but not before double-bolting my door. If I would
have kept my wits about me I would've dragged Dave from his shitty movie to keep me company and stand watch. Maybe he would've believed me. I've never told him. I slept dead and dreamless. My body and soul were shot from the trauma. And then I awoke, and started the work of repressing the memories. I was systematic. I chanted. I smoked a lot of herb. It did not happen . . . it did not happen was my mantra. I meditated. I prayed. I was in a war to save my soul. My shitty job was salvation from the agony of thinking, the searing hell of free time, dream time. And after three months of this,
the systematic repression seemed successful. And then I finally felt well enough to return to the Bullpen. Now, because of subsequent events, I know I was called there.
I sat at the bar, said hello to old acquaintances, making up stories to explain my